


weathering sights

by stupidity



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blind Louis, Drabble, M/M, No Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 12:35:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10465176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidity/pseuds/stupidity
Summary: Harry and Louis meet in the park, and it leads to a beautiful relationship.





	

  
_when r u coming home you git? mum misses you_

  
Harry chuckles to himself, sauntering a bit slowly as he concentrates on typing a reply to his sister saying in about a month. He's surrounded by the buzz of children and adults scolding and dogs yelping here and there. The wind was probably flowing west, or otherwise known as the direction he was going towards, if that's what it was. But, it was giving him firm pushes when he wasn't able to rake his feet down. He continues tripping forward, blurrily focusing on his phone, until he bumps into something.

"Oi, can't you see, mate?!" Or rather someone, it seems. 

Something hits him on the side of his calf. He huffs and glances up to chide the man, when he freezes with his brows knitted, feet punctuating down. Oh.

The man was blind. He even had a pair of sunglasses and a cane to accessorise.

"Oh," he breaths out, guilt pitches at the corners of his mouth. "I'm so sorry. I didn't see where I was going..."

The man smirks, and it's a rather encompassing sight. "You were going to have a go at me, but you realised and extended your kindness. See, this is the advantage of not being able to see. Why don't people realise that when I tell them?"

For a moment, Harry thinks he's going to whip off his glasses and throw his walking cane over his shoulder with a dramatic laugh, but he doesn't. He continues smirking, if not, the end of his lips curling even more. Smug suited the man in a perfect fit. It's a wonder if behind those glasses, he didn't have eyes full of mirth. Instead of thinking further on the man's short hair and sharp cheekbones, Harry clears his throat. "Erm, right. I'll be on my way. I'm sorry again, mister."

As he begins to step away, tucking his phone back into his pocket, the blind man speaks. "Don't you think you owe me, mate? Seeing as you almost tripped me?"

"Look-"

"Oh, c'mon! I was sure which way I going when I came in. You've steered me off my way. The least you can do is be a dear and take me to one of the benches," the man supplies.

That was true. It was his fault and he could spare a minute or so to help the man out. "Definitely," he promises. 

With dubiousness, he places a hand in the small of the man's back and gives him a light pushes, allows him to stumble forward a bit, before he leads him to one of the empty wooden benches right across where the children were playing. He slowly sits down with his cane placed next to him, smiling at the noise. "Sit down, will you? Give this bloke some company. I've been waiting for my mate but he's late as usual."

Harry sits down tentatively. He should probably text his sister and go back to the flat. Liam was probably going to wait for his scrambled eggs... which could wait. Making acquaintance with a rather interesting blind man was topping his priorities. "W-What do you want me to do?"

"You don't have to go somewhere, do you?" He waits, until Harry gives him denial. "Alright, then, talk about something. I'm bored. Actually, tell me your name. Or wait, let me guess. I've heard your voice, let me guess it. Brad. Bradley?"

"Nope," Harry begins to smile.

"It has to be something hunk, I'm sure. What about... Derek?"

"Not even close."

"Caleb, John, Thomas, Leonardo DiCaprio?"

Harry finally breaks out a laugh. "No, no, no, and I wish."

"Don't we all," he mutters. "I give up."

"It's Harry."

"Harry..." the man rolls his name around on his tongue with a smile. "You don't sound hunk at all. It sounds like a grandpa name. Are you sure you're not fifty years old? Deep voices can be deceptive."

"I'm very sure," Harry says solemnly, though he can't stop laughing. "Can't you see?"

Louis smacks him with his cane again, to which he yelps. "Don't get sassy on me, that's my area of expertise. Now, won't you ask my name? Ask me my name."

"What's your name?"

"Louis. Very French, I know. Hopefully, I won't be guillotined like my name sake," the blind man says. "Now that our introductions are over, talk about something. How are the grandchildren? Has the youngest one started to walk yet?"

"Still crawling, she's getting to it," Harry plays along. "So, the weather..."

Louis groans. "Not the small talk, Harold. Not the dreadful small talk."

"My name isn't Harold," Harry giggles. "But, no, really, the weather."

"Shut up."

"No."

"Harold."

"I remember telling you explicitly that it's Harry."

The blind man snort, probably rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "Alright. Tell me about this weather you keep going on about, then. How is it today?"

Harry looks up to the sky, eyes falling on the heavy clouds of grey, pinched together with the impending rain. "Erm," he falters as he watches the dull heavens move in at a slow pace. "Okay, so the sky... it's blue. It's very blue. Do you know what colour blue is?"

"I know what blue is. Haven't been blind all me life," Louis answers. "Go on."

"Yeah, it's like a very light blue. Baby blue. The sun, well, it's out. It's hidden behind a tree now, and you'll be able to feel it soon. Oh, there's clouds too. Like small pillows in the sky, they're very white."

"Louis!"

Louis's head perks up when he hears his name. The person who addressed him -a blonde man- comes closer, just as he's standing up. "Guess that's my cue. It was nice talking to you, Harold."

Harry nods, and then remembers he can't be seen. "Nice to meet you, Louis."

He starts towards the direction of the blonde man, but he stops short before he's barely a step away. He turns around and whacks Harry on the leg with his once again, the same smirk resurfacing. "Seriously? You pillock, you take me for a fool? We live in London, don't you think I know the sun is never out and the sky is never blue?" He lets out a ringing laugh. "But, thanks for trying to make my day, because it worked."

He leaves Harry dumbstruck as he struts away.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This was simply another way H&L would've met and that's all I wanted to convey. Feedback would be lovely.


End file.
